


Drop It Like It's Hot

by JellybeanSweet



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Stiles is not having a good day, but not really, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18411608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellybeanSweet/pseuds/JellybeanSweet
Summary: “I’m having a bad day and now I’ve tripped and dropped all my books in front of a hot person and now they’re staring and oh hey someone hotter came to help me maybe I should drop things more” AU





	Drop It Like It's Hot

**Author's Note:**

> It's kind of short. Oh well.
> 
> No beta, all mistakes are mine.

Stiles woke up to his alarm blaring, and with someone banging on his door and yelling at him to turn it off.

 

Stiles scrambled up and out of bed, slamming his hand down on his phone, simultaneously turning off the alarm and flinging it halfway across the room, and the person outside the door yelled a sarcastic thanks and slammed their fist on the door once more before their footsteps retreated back down the hall.

 

What a fantastic way to start the day. 

 

Stiles pushed himself out of bed and stumbled his way to his phone, checking the time. 

 

“Fuck,” he whined. It was almost an hour passed when the alarm was supposed to wake him up. That meant he had a good ten minutes to get dressed, gather his shit, and haul ass to his first class.

 

He dug through the pile of laundry scattered on his side of the room, finding the least offensive smelling pair of pants and shirt before fleeing from the room as fast as possible.

 

Stiles practically sprinted across campus. He spotted the professor to his class walking into the building and cursed. Stiles weaved his way through people, somehow walking into class a few beats before Mr. Madison.

 

To be honest, most of his teachers didn’t care about who was at class or not, but Mr. Madison was worse than Harris from high school, and Stiles did it want to deal with that.

 

The day of mistakes got increasingly worse as time went on.

 

Because he was basically the last person into class, bar some asshole named Green-herb or something who was  _ always  _ late, he had to sit all the way in the front, right up close and personal to Mr. Dickface. Worst. Lecture.  _ Ever _ .

 

Stiles also almost fell asleep in class, right in front of Madison, which he got yelled at for. In front of everybody else in class. He got some sympathy, though. He supposed that was a plus in this day of negatives.

 

Making his way out of class, he got run into twice and discovered that he’d left his phone in his room in his rush to get to class on time.

 

There was a period of the day that went decent, starting from after Stiles discovering his phone was home. He went without incident until after his second class of the day, which ended at 11:30. 

 

On his way from his second class to his third, a five minute long walk, Stiles managed to get hit with a frisbee  _ and  _ a soccer ball. He almost got ran over by someone on a skateboard, and then he walked straight into someone’s back while coming into class.

 

It took all of Stiles’ night not to just groan aloud at all the stupid, random things that he’s been hit with. He legitimately spent time wondering if he had angered some god of random misfortune.

 

He was incident free for another hour or so, until he was walking towards the lunch hall and somebody spilled water all over him. That was fun. He tried not to cry.

 

The girl had profusely apologized, begging for forgiveness, and, well, Stiles wasn’t a complete asshole. He gave a weak smile and accepted her apology. He thanked her for the tissues she had in her bag to try and dry off his face, and the miraculously mostly-dry books and papers in his arms, and continued on his way.

 

He ate as fast as he could and smuggled some food into his bag for later. He put his papers into his bag, the one book that he managed to force in joining it, and settled for carrying the other three books as well as a few papers he needed to fill out using said books.

 

It was on the way back to Stiles’ dorm that he experienced what was arguably the worst inconvenience of the day. Somebody ran into him, and hard.

 

Stiles was walking back home, outside with plenty of room around him on the sidewalk to get past, when it happened.

 

The runner, someone either not paying attention or someone who just really didn’t care, slammed into Stiles while full tilt sprinting, and said not a word of apology.

 

The books in Stiles’ hands went cascading to the ground and the papers went flying into the air. Stiles himself toppled over, landing hard on his ass on the paved sidewalk. To top it all of, there stood Heather Custer, arguably one of the cuter and well known girls at the university, who was simply staring while her friends laughed.

 

Stiles flushed, turning away to gather his books and whatever papers had not flown away. He was never going to get through this day.

 

Stiles startled when he saw a hand appear in front of him. He took it without glancing up, brushing himself off with one hand once he was standing upright, all his papers in his hand, but no books.

 

“Thanks, dude,” Stiles sighed, looking up. He froze as he took in the hunk of a man that stood before him. God, those muscles could crush him in an instant and he wouldn’t even be mad.

 

“Uhhhh…” Stiles attempted. 

 

The man raised his eyebrows. He held out off the books with one hand and the bottom of the stack.

 

“Oh, wow, uh, thank you for helping,” Stiles stuttered, flushing even more.

 

“Sure. You looked done with life when you fell over. Besides, Matt’s an ass. He should have apologized.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Thank you, again.” 

 

They stood there for a moment before Derek cleared his throat.

 

“The books?”

 

“Oh, duh, right, sorry.” Stiles grabbed them out of the guys arms. “What-what’s your name?”

 

“Derek.”

 

Stiles smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’m Stiles.”

 

Derek grinned. “Nice to meet you, too.”

 

Another silence. Stiles took a deep breath and then blew it out.

 

“Would you like to grab some coffee, maybe?” Stiles asked.

 

“That sounds like fun.”

 

“Great. There’s a pretty cheap one that’s got decent stuff just off campus. You know it?”

 

“Hayley’s? Definitely.”

 

Stiles beamed. “It’s a date.”

 

Derek nodded, smiling as he walked next to Stiles, who was already lamenting about his day, and how Derek had been his savior.

 

By the time Stiles was finally returning home, he had another number in his phone and an occupied Saturday.

  
  



End file.
